


Eye to Eye

by Plot Gremlin (Cytokiine)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Lucio is generally a nasty man who pushes boundaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cytokiine/pseuds/Plot%20Gremlin
Summary: Count Lucio has been strangely absent in the days leading up to the Masquerade. The Apprentice, not content to wait and see what he has planned, attempts to lure him out a second time for some questioning.





	Eye to Eye

Remodeling couldn’t save the Count’s old quarters. The furnishings were sumptuous, appointed by the Countess herself. Yet for all her aesthetic acumen, it was styled after Lucio’s tastes, not her own. The result was a very beautiful mausoleum- claimed too deeply by the past to ever belong in the present. And then there was the Count’s portrait, still hanging unmoved and unblemished on the wall where she’d first seen it.

For a moment, a vision of the room as it had been superimposed itself– an ashy monument to neglect brooding in the heart of the palace –before reality returned. Asmi blinked, chasing the vision from her head, and sucked in a breath.

The air was clear, but there was an arid quality to it that scratched at the back of her throat and itched in her lungs. It was tense. Restless, like a pacing beast. Alive. Lucio’s magic grew heavier by the day, oppressive in its omnipresence, and yet he was making fewer appearances… She couldn’t help but feel that boded ill. As disturbing as his presence was, his absence was even more unnatural. And that was why she’d come to his wing. Alone, just like the first time she’d met him. He seemed bolder without Asra around, more inclined to appear.

The treasures she laid out were designed to tempt him. It had been difficult to procure everything without alerting Nadia or Asra to her plan. Only Portia knew, and she’d almost refused to help. Asmi had buttered her up, stressing just how critical her assistance was and promising to feed her the choicest bits of gossip she learned. In return, Portia had smuggled her an assortment of Lucio’s favorite things. A bouquet of white roses freshly cut from his garden, powerfully fragrant and still wet with dew; a bottle of his favorite red vintage; a plate of ox tartare, prepared but twenty minutes hence; a stick of kohl in the style he’d used; a crimson robe of silk with fine gold embroidery.

The last two items she set aside in favor of arranging the first three into an attractive presentation. Asmi poured two glasses of the wine, setting the second before her like an offering as she savored her own. It was a blended red, complex with an unexpected peppery bite. A rare treat. She didn’t often have the chance to indulge in good wine. The tartare was less to her taste, though hardly a trial to swallow– it fair melted on her tongue.

The scent of roses filled the Count’s room by the time she reached for the robe. Asmi shivered a little as she undressed and slipped on the silk garment. It was cool against her skin, a refreshing contrast to the sudden, prickling sensation of watchful eyes. The fabric flowed like water, enveloping and clinging to her silhouette so faithfully, she blushed to admire herself. There was naught left to the imagination. Portia had done her job a little too well. As she reached for the kohl and a mirror, laughter rippled behind her.

“Trying to emulate me?”

Her hands trembled as she felt his heat coalesce behind her, though she only saw her own face reflected in the mirror. She resisted the temptation to turn her head and look, even as she felt him draw closer. His eyes bored into her back, heavy with intent. Steadying her hands, Asmi glanced up at Lucio’s portrait, gauging the angle of his eye paint so she could draw the first line.

Lucio chuckled again, breath feathering her ear.

“Allow me.”

Claws ghosted over her hand, making the fine hairs stand on end. A steady pressure guided her stroke, far surer than anything she could have consciously drawn. When the right eye was finished, a languorous sigh ruffled the hairs on the nape of her neck.

“You’ll have to take the rest from here.”

Instead of continuing, Asmi set the kohl down. The heat at her back intensified.

“What are you doing? Finish! There’s a time and a place for asymmetry, but this is not it,” Lucio growled. His translucent arm reached around her, trying in vain to grab the abandoned kohl stick, but it slipped through his grasp like sand through a sieve. He made a noise of frustration.

“I came to you with questions. If you answer them, I’ll finish the other eye,” Asmi said, finally speaking.

Lucio sneered.

“You think I’ll give you what you want so easily?”

“I never thought it would be easy. But you’re here, aren’t you?”

“Of course. You went out of your way to bring me all of my favorite things.”

Lucio’s presence vanished. For a moment, Asmi thought he’d left, but then he rematerialized moments later in front of his portrait. He traced his own figure, careful not to mar the canvas like he had the others. Not for the first time, Asmi wondered why this one was so different. What made it untouchable?

“Do you have any idea what it’s been like?” Lucio asked, breaking the lull. Asmi stayed silent, hoping he would slip into a monologue. “I wanted for nothing when I became Count. Now, I want everything. Touch, taste, relevance… Vesuvia! What a wretched place you are become without me. How this land hungers for change…”

“What kind of change?” Asmi asked. Lucio turned to look at her.

“What kind indeed? You long for change too. I’ve been watching you, Asra’s apprentice. You are chained to a past you don’t even remember, and the man with the key to unlock those memories offers mere snippets. Don’t you wonder what it is he’s hiding from you?”

Asmi’s eyes narrowed at his insinuation.

“I trust Asra with my life.”

“Why? Because you love him? That’s a terrible reason to trust someone.”

Their conversation had taken a strange and personal turn. Asmi bit back a sharp retort, recognizing his taunt for what it was– deflection.

“Asra has never given me cause not to trust that his intentions are good.”

Lucio’s eyes fixed hers for a moment, then he smirked.

“I wonder if you’ll be able to say the same once you learn his secrets.”

Asmi’s hands balled into fists. This was a mistake. He was baiting her, and she would learn nothing meaningful from this exchange. All she would leave with was a head full of hot steam and a heart full of doubt. Forcing herself to exhale, she stood. Lucio was at her side in an instant.

“Leaving so soon? I thought you had questions for me,” he wheedled.

“If only you had answers.”

“Don’t be hasty. Finish what you started and I’ll talk. It’s so… gratifying to watch you do me.”

Asmi glowered in his direction, but crouched to retrieve the stick of kohl and mirror she’d dropped. Lucio circled around to her front, crimson eyes fixed on her with rapt intensity. As soon as she made the second marking, he sighed, his expression one of deep longing.

“You become me so well. We just need to get you some jewelry, furs… _nngh_ , it’s _such_ a shame my closet burned with everything else.”

“You care more about losing a few possessions than losing your life?”

Lucio’s eyes turned hard. It was only for a moment, but it chilled her. Then his eyes warmed again, and a slow smile spread across his face. He drifted away from her, pacing counterclockwise around the room.

“You know what I learned from my time as a mercenary?” he asked, tone light.

“That you have an appetite for luxury that couldn’t be satisfied on a sellsword’s income?”

Lucio laughed at her barbed reply.

“That too, yes, but the most important thing I took away from it is that even the best laid plans can go awry, and one must needs be… flexible.”

“Flexible?” Asmi repeated, dubious.

“Very,” Lucio purred, turning back towards her.

Then he pounced.

He was heavy. The thought felt oddly disjointed from everything else as she was thrust backwards, carried by his weight and momentum. She opened her mouth to scream, but Lucio’s hand clamped over it, muffling the sound. Her shoulders hit the bed first, spine arching painfully and hips jutting against Lucio’s before she lost her footing and collapsed flat against the mattress with a soft _whumph_. She felt a little winded as Lucio leaned over her, pinning her to the bed. But how? He still looked spectral, but his body felt as solid as hers. She could smell ash and musk, taste the salt on his palm where it pressed against her lips. His fur was soft and warm, tickling her skin as he appraised her with naked hunger in his eyes.

“Oh yes… you are just what the doctor ordered,” he husked, removing his hand from her mouth so he could turn her face from side to side. His grip on her chin was gentle but firm.

“Get off me,” Asmi spat.

“I’m not even properly on you. Has anyone ever told you that you’ve a lovely pair of lips by the by? Are you any good with them?”

“Get off!”

“I intend to.”

Anger coiled in her stomach. It had been a mistake to come alone. It had been a mistake to come at all. She should have let Portia talk her out of this. His audacity was unbelievable. But… she wasn’t defenseless. She wasn’t as practiced with her magic as Asra, but will shaped reality. If she could only calm down, reach into herself and draw upon her inner strength…

“None of that,” Lucio murmured. The air turned thick with his magic, smothering her in a red miasma that clouded her thoughts and turned her limbs leaden. She’d forgotten he could do that, make her feel as though mind and body alike were wading through honey.

Lucio released his hold on her chin and straightened to admire her prone form. Tracing a claw down her chest, he parted the robe she wore and pressed his palm flat over her heart. It fluttered erratically beneath his hand– a small, cornered thing.

“For all that you’ve tamed him, he has yet to take this. Who does he think he’s fooling?” Lucio mused.

Asmi’s tongue felt numb in her mouth. Her eyelids kept drooping, heavy as they were. It was a struggle just to keep them open. Only her heart beat with unfettered energy, pounding against her ribs as if to escape the man who loomed above her.

“Well, that’s his loss. The student is so much more promising than the master. I’m sure my master would agree. After all, we’re of the same mind. And you will be too.”

That didn’t sound good. Whatever expression she made seemed to amuse Lucio, for he leaned in again with a devilish look, claw tracing her skin in the pattern of a heart.

“Oh, did I say too much? I’m just so careless around you.”

She was beginning to realize he was anything but. Vain, yes. Proud and prone to boasting, absolutely. But how much of Lucio’s persona was genuine, and how much was an exaggerated act? Swallowing, she focused on moving her lips. Her words emerged slurred, but intelligible.

“What do you want from me?”

Lucio cocked his head. It was an avian gesture, one that reminded her much of the awful cockatiel in the gardens that Portia hated with a passion.

“What do I want? From you? I think you know the answer already, pet.”

It wasn’t hard to guess. Half of Lucio’s words were innuendo, and he was far from subtle. But acknowledging it filled her with a gripping dread. She didn’t want this. Not him, not his suffocating magic, not his damnable, mocking tongue, not…

Lucio stepped backward, extending his hand. The miasma choking her eased, and suddenly she could breathe again. Asmi propped herself up, feeling dizzy. She eyed him warily, pointedly refusing his proffered assistance.

“What’s your game, Lucio?”

“I’m a simple man with simple desires.”

He did not lower his hand. His palm remained upturned and extended, fingers crooked invitingly.

“I don’t understand you,” Asmi said.

“I assure you, I’m not that deep. Take my hand and I’ll tell you though,” Lucio replied.

“You keep promising answers and failing to deliver on them.”

“And you keep trying to make deals with the Devil.”

That… that was true. Maybe literally. After all, he called the Devil master. His form was no longer his own, having taken on the Arcana’s appearance. How close was he to his goal of becoming one with the entity?

“And _technically_ , I never promised you anything before. But this time, I’ll swear,” Lucio continued, interrupting her thoughts.

“On what?” she asked, skeptical.

“On my good looks. I’d never take those for granted.”

“Try again.”

Lucio sighed, though he didn’t seem particularly put upon.

“I swear upon my master’s name, you’ll have at least one answer from me if you take my hand.”

It was objectively a bad idea. Experience suggested she ignore his offer, for there would be a trick to it. Why make another deal with the Devil as he so flippantly put it? And yet… this time, she sensed he was sincere. She would have an answer in some manner or another. Possibly more than one. Probably not. Cursing her own curiosity, she placed her hand in his. Lucio’s claws closed around her fingers, and he pulled her to her feet in one graceful motion.

“You have exquisite taste,” he said, drawing her close. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her, but instead, he pressed his cheek against hers and inhaled. “Mmm… still quite the morsel.”

“What are you planning for Vesuvia?” Asmi asked.

“Something memorable.”

“That’s hardly an answer.”

“Hmm, then ask me another question.”

He placed his hand on her lower back and took a step to the side, guiding her with his hips. She followed him, stumbling at first. When he took another step, she realized what he was doing. Though no music played, he was trying to dance. She matched his movements, falling into a rhythm as she let him lead her into a silent waltz.

“What do you hope to gain?” she pressed, trying to keep him accountable to their agreement.

“Everything.”

He was enjoying himself. His eyes were closed, and a light smile played across his lips. His thoughts seemed elsewhere, ranging beyond this room. Every year on his birthday, he’d hosted a masquerade dance. Perhaps he was revisiting those memories? He must have missed this. Even with one arm missing, his skill showed. He knew the steps by heart, guiding her through them without an ounce of hesitation. For a moment, she forgot her irritation with him and allowed him to sweep her up in the simple pleasure of dance. But her mind still whirled with unanswered questions, and it was another question that eventually broke the reverie.

“How is it that you can touch me like this?”

Instead of answering, he spun her. Her robe flared out with the sudden motion, a cool rush of air meeting her bared thighs. Lucio pulled her back against him, chest flush with her shoulders, and nuzzled the back of her neck.

“You’re the one who invited me to play, pet. I just accepted your invitation,” he finally replied.

“Speak plainly.”

“I never do anything plainly.”

Her patience wore thin. A spectral terror he might be, but if he was physical enough to interact with her, he was physical enough to injure. Raising her heel, she slammed it hard against his ankle. Lucio’s body went taut against her. His arm wrapped tight around her waist as he groaned in her ear.

“Oh Asmi… Such _fire_ … I love a woman who isn’t afraid to assert herself. Yes, I do believe we see eye to eye.”

Asmi opened her mouth to respond, then paused. There was something about his words that bothered her… something important. But what? Eye to eye… a presumptuous statement from a presumptuous man, but…

…. _No_.

“You bastard goat!” she swore, turning in his grip so she could meet his eyes. He smirked back.

“T’was your idea, not mine,” he reminded her. She bared her teeth at him, raising a hand. But instead of striking him, she tried to wipe the kohl from her cheeks. Surprisingly, he let her go, stepping back to watch her.

“I didn’t know,” she said as she smudged the markings until they were a featureless smear. “I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known.”

“No?” Lucio asked, sounding genuinely disappointed. “No sympathy for the deceased? The living are so cruel. It’s not much fun being dead. Your friends and loved ones just don’t have time for you anymore.”

He drifted away from her, arm crossed behind his back. She took the opportunity to stoop and gather the things she’d brought. It wouldn’t do to leave evidence of her visit behind.

“Know that if you leave now, I won’t heed your call again. Not if you present me with the most sumptuous feast imaginable, not if you arrayed yourself like a banquet to be sampled. Not on your terms, no. Only on mine.”

“That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” she replied caustically.

“As you wish.”

He faded from view as he spoke, voice lingering a moment longer than his image. Shaking her head to clear it, Asmi strode over to the door with purpose. But her hand hesitated on the handle. The air in the room was charged. Though she could no longer see him, she still felt Lucio’s presence.

“What would you do if I stayed?” she asked. Silence was her response. After a few seconds passed, she wet her lips and asked another question. “Why do you want me to stay?”

“Why do you think?” Lucio murmured, sounding weary.

She wasn’t going to stay. She’d already made up her mind, and this time, she would not let him sway her convictions. But it didn’t feel good to leave things like this. A spurned noble was a vengeful noble. Asmi turned to gaze at his portrait, weighing her next words before she spoke.

“You want attention. This whole time, you’ve just tried to keep me here a little longer. You want me to be intimidated by you, even frightened, but you don’t want me to leave.”

He’d lapsed back into silence, but she knew she had his attention.

“If you thought you could take what you wanted from me by force, you would have. Sex is one thing, but companionship is more elusive. So you strung this out as long as you could,” she continued. Setting her things down, she raised her chin stubbornly and crossed her arms. “Come out, Lucio. Stop sulking. I’m still here, for now.”

Silence stretched for several seconds before she heard the ghost of a chuckle.

“Guilty as charged.”

Lucio materialized again, gliding towards her. His eyes found and held hers. There was an almost mesmerizing quality to them. She forced herself to blink and look away.

“There are better ways to get someone’s attention.”

“I don’t know. I seem to have captured yours quite well.”

“I don’t appreciate being threatened.”

“Fear and love, pet. If I can’t have one, I’ll have the other. They’re equally satisfying.”

“You never even tried the latter.”

Lucio was suddenly very close. He could move so quickly when he wanted to.

“I didn’t realize you were on the market,” he said.

Asmi took a step backwards, raising her hands, as if to ward against the new interest that lit up his face.

“How much do hearts go for these days?” Lucio asked coyly. Asmi shook her head.

“Oh no. I’m not available. Don’t misunderstand.”

“Don’t make me _beg_ , woman. I does not befit a Count.”

At least he wasn’t nursing a grudge anymore, but was this really better? He prowled around her, looking far too pleased with himself.

“All I meant was that you didn’t even try to charm me. You just went straight for menace, having your hounds herd me to you, saying I smelled delicious…”

“You came to me saturated in another man’s magic. What was I to think? I see now that I jumped to a hasty conclusion.”

“You weren’t wrong!”

Lucio pressed a claw to her lips, silencing her.

“Shh… this is a cry for help. I’d be remiss not to answer it.”

He was impossible! Choosing to believe in whatever fanciful reality appealed to him most, regardless of the truth. Asmi gestured towards him rudely. He winked in response.

“Go then. But come back soon. Don’t leave me hanging, or I will be cross.”

And then he was gone, this time truly. His absence left a vacuum, as though all the energy in the room had followed him out. The air felt stagnant, devoid of the tense charge she’d felt when she arrived. Asmi took a deep breath, then let it hiss out slowly as she assessed the situation.

Things were no more and no less complicated than they had been. The complications were simply different now. It did no good to dwell on the way things had turned out. She owed Portia gossip, and Asra would wonder at her absence if she was gone much longer. The sooner she left this lifeless room behind, the sooner she could make sense of the story she would tell each of them.

Gathering her things once again, she departed.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to every Lucio fan thirsting for content in a desert of Count Thot memes. I see you.
> 
> Carry on, goat fuckers ;)


End file.
